Ferryman

by Jonathon Wise

  Brandt loitered for a moment before chasing after them.

  As Andy killed his headlights and drove the last hundred yards with his running lights, Cindy asked, “Why don’t you want to say anything?”

  “They need to get a good night’s sleep and that won’t happen if they know Jason is right behind us.”

  Andy parked and ran up to them. “It looks like they’re stopping in that town back there.”

  Chuck slapped him on the back. “You did a real good job.”

  “No problem, boss.”

  “One other thing. Don’t say anything to the others about Jason.”

  “Gotya,” Andy replied. “Don’t want to panic them.”

  “That’s right. Now go on and help the others settle in.” Andy lowered his shoulders and sprinted over to the steps.

  Chuck continued to stand and stare through the darkness like he was waiting on something. Cindy walked over to his side, put her arm around him and matched his stare. It was almost cool enough to see the fog of their breath as they huddled closer together. A few minutes later the chill was about to chase Cindy inside when Chuck pointed. “There.” It started as the faintest of glows, but quickly grew until it lit up the distant sky.

  “Is that Jamestown?”

  “Yeah, they’re burning it.” They heard the slight echo of distant gunfire. “That’s them,” Chuck said. “They’re getting drunk and firing their guns into the air.”

  “Like they’re celebrating?”

  “Yep.”

  “What are they celebrating?”

  Chuck turned her from the fire and started walking her up the hill to the house. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Chapter 44

  Chuck glanced around as they stepped inside the dilapidated old farmhouse. Other than an old couch that looked like someone dragged out of a trash pile, there wasn’t any furniture at all in the place. But it wasn’t completely empty. There were several dozen crumpled beer cans and broken bottles catching the light from the lanterns in the far corner, as well as a few makeshift ashtrays setting on the floor around the couch. In the middle of everything was the cover to an old barbeque grill. It was held firmly upside down on the floor by a couple of bricks and surrounded by scorch marks. It looked like the local kids had used the abandoned house as a party place before the End.

  As he helped Cindy to a spot on the couch next to Sara, Jim spoke up from across the room. “It looks like there’s a fire back in that small town.”

  Chuck gave Cindy a heart-felt look and joined Jim and Andy at the window. “It does? I guess there must have been a survivor back there.”

  “What do you suppose he’s doing?” Jim asked.

  Andy piped in. “He probably saw us drive through and is trying to signal us…let us know that he’s back there.”

  Chuck nodded as he watched Jim eyeing the glow in the distance. He added, “Yeah, but we can’t take a chance on picking anyone else up right now.”

  Jim looked at Chuck for a long second and slowly turned and walked away. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He stopped at the couch and took a tired seat on the floor between Sara and Lori’s feet as Brandt and Jeff joined him. It had been a long, stressful day—one they wouldn’t soon forget, and one that made unnecessary conversation both painful and uncomfortable. Jim leaned against the edge of the sofa, lowered his head and closed his eyes. Within minutes, all but Andy and Chuck were beginning to drift off.

  Andy leaned closer to Chuck as they continued to stare through the torn screen and cracked glass of the window. “You know…I bet Jason probably knows exactly where we are.”

  Chuck nodded and asked, “You have any better feel for how many are with him?”

  “I counted eight vehicles, but there’s probably more. If you figure at least three men per car, then we’re looking at twenty-four men—minimum.”

  They glanced at each other and then looked back at the glow. Chuck was thankful that the walls and glass provided enough insulation that the others couldn’t hear the sounds of the distant gunfire. He squeezed Andy’s shoulder and said, “You go grab some sleep with the others. I’ll take first watch.”

  “What are we going to do? I think Jason’s figuring on making a run at us tomorrow.” Andy shook his head, “There’s no way we can fight off that many.”

  “Tomorrow’s a long way off. Go get some sleep. It’s going to be a big day and I need you to be fresh and alert.”

  “Sure boss.”

  As Andy joined the others, his words lingered in Chuck’s mind. Andy was right on both counts. Jason was going to make a run at them tomorrow and they couldn’t fight off that many. But then perhaps they didn’t need to. Chuck thought back to his worries about losing the leadership of the group. His concern hadn’t been about any personal loss of power—it was about what would happen if Andy didn’t step up and take charge. Without a leader, the group would lose their direction and will to finish what they had started. Every group needed a leader to hold them together; without one, personal feelings and motives would take control and it would quickly become a chaotic mob where everyone was only interested in looking out for themselves.

  He rubbed his chin and thought about Jason’s men. They were probably guzzling down all the alcohol they could find. In a few hours he could see most of them either passing out or simply falling asleep. Chuck thought about his deer hunting skills. He could slip back in town under the cover of night, and cut the head off the snake. Kill Jason and you kill the threat. He looked over his shoulder at Cindy and the others falling asleep behind him. It was too late for those he had already lost—but not for those seven.

  He thought of his dream where Cindy stood on the cliff with their son. Now he knew why he never saw himself standing there with them.

  He looked back at the sky glowing in the distance and it hit him. He had seen the distant glow of that town burning before. It was way back, back before the End. It slowly started to come to him. He had the passenger side of the Chevy up on the sidewalk and was speeding toward a newspaper machine. It was the day he realized that the bug wasn’t contained.

  He looked back at the distant glow and slowly started nodding. Perhaps somewhere deep down, he knew it would come to this all along.

  Chapter 45

  As the distant glow over Jamestown slowly burned itself out, Chuck thought about how much his life had changed since the End. Perhaps he would never know why Cindy and the others followed him, or in what they based their faith in his leadership. Perhaps sometimes you just had to live and not worry about the reasons that explained why.

  Chuck maintained his watch until the calm of night settled in over the echo of distant gunfire. He quietly walked over to those sleeping on the floor around the couch and paused briefly in front of Cindy. She was resting peacefully with her head on Sara’s shoulder. But what he saw was her smile and laughter as they sat on the porch swing back at the Victorian and watched the children play. He remembered the feel of her hand in his as they walked the streets in Madison, and how it felt to be close to her when she whispered that she loved him. He smiled as he thought about the man his son would grow to be. He looked at her stomach and then back at her face. Cindy was a good woman. She would tell their son about him. She would tell their son how proud his father was of him, and that his father loved them both deeply. He closed his eyes and burned her image into his memory. After a moment for himself, he kneeled next to Andy and gave him a slight nudge.

  That was all it took for the ever alert young man. After a quick yawn, Andy got up and followed Chuck out the front door without disturbing those sleeping around him.

  Chuck walked down the steps and out onto the gravel drive before he finally turned around to face Andy. He wasn’t sure how to start off what needed to be said, but knew it would come to him once he got going. He extended his hand with an open palm. Andy reciprocated, and as Chuck shook the young man’s hand, he said, “You know you’ve done well.” But instead of releasing Andy’s hand after
the compliment, he continued to hold on to it as he said, “The others look up to you. I look up to you.” Andy tried to let go and pull away, but Chuck kept a firm hold of his hand. “You’ve really shown your courage by what you did back there in Versailles. No one has ever doubted that. Time and time again you’ve shown there’s no need to. Your runs to Indy for survivors…the way you laid back behind us when I asked you to. All of that goes a long way in a man’s book. At least it sure does in mine.”

  Andy tensed up and re-gripped Chuck’s hand. “You’re not going any farther are you?”

  Chuck studied the dark silhouette of Andy’s face under the night sky and said, “No son…I’m not. It’s time for you to lead the others. Time for you to make sure they reach their destination.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  Chuck pulled Andy over to him and wrapped his arms around him in a heart-felt hug. “You can,” he said with a squeeze. He pulled back and said, “I don’t know if anyone else could…but I know you can. This is what you were born for. This is your destiny.”

  “But I don’t know if I could make the decisions you’ve had to make.”

  “You can. It won’t be easy…it never is. But you’ll make the decisions that need to be made and they’ll follow you. Just like me, the others have seen how much you care for them and their safety. They’ve seen how much it tears you apart when we’ve lost someone.”

  “It tears us all apart.”

  “I know it does. But it’s how you handle it and what you do afterwards that sets you apart from the rest. I don’t think Jim could ever make a decision that might put others in danger. If it were up to him we would have turned around long ago. And Jeff…he’ll make a decision alright, but he can’t separate the emotion from the logic of what needs to be done. You have. Besides, Cindy will be there to help you. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. You need to listen to her and learn. But in the end, it will be you that has to decide what to do next.” Once he saw that Andy was nodding, he pulled the young man over to his side and draped his arm over Andy’s shoulders. “I know it’s a little scary, but you have it in you. I’ve seen it. So has everyone else. They’ll all support you as leader…you watch and see.”

  “Okay,” Andy said softly, “I’ll do it.” He put his hand on Chuck’s back and said with growing confidence, “I’ll make sure they get to Boston.”

  “Good, I don’t have any doubt that you will.”

  After a brief period of silence, Andy asked, “You’re going after Jason, aren’t you.”

  Chuck pointed toward the faint glow in the distant sky. “I’ve been watching their fires die out. Most of his men are asleep or passed out. It won’t be any problem to get in close enough to line the bastard up in my crosshairs. I’ll take him out and then the rest will lose interest.”

  “After you’re dead they might! You know they’ll rush you with everything they have at first.”

  “I figure as much. If they do, I’ll take a few of them with me.”

  “You know you would stand a much better chance of getting out of there alive if I went with you.”

  Chuck reached up and grabbed Andy by the back of the neck. “No—that would mean Cindy and the others would be left without a leader. Your job is to make sure she gets to Scotland. Period! Our baby is going to live. Everyone needs to see that. The world needs to believe that there’s still hope.” Chuck squeezed his neck. “And you’re going to make sure that happens, aren’t you?”

  “Yes sir, boss.”

  Chuck let go of his neck. “Good!”

  Andy rubbed the back of his neck and said, “You know several of us talked about you and Jason one night back in Madison.”

  “So what’d you have to say?”

  “It was around the fire pit after one of our meetings. Big Mike and Julie were talking about how they’d seen Jason ask this guy if he was the one that was going to stop him.”

  “And?”

  “The guy said that he was and then Jason gave him a gun. According to Mike and Julie, the man stood not more than ten feet from Jason and pulled the trigger. Somehow the guy missed.”

  “What’s your point, Andy?”

  “I’m saying that no one knows why Jason does that, but every time someone has tried to kill him, they’ve failed. Some people actually believe he is doing God’s work. They believe that’s why he can’t be killed.”

  “That doesn’t change my mind. I’m still going to try.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “Well what are you trying to say?” Chuck said in frustration.

  “Afterwards we got talking about who could kill Jason.” Andy stressed the ‘who’ as he turned from the fading glow over Jamestown and faced the only man he’d ever truly placed his trust in. “We all thought that you could. Every last one of us.”

  A chill shot up Chuck’s back that made him step away from Andy.

  “There’s something about you. I felt it when we first met in Indy. We’ve all felt it.”

  Suddenly Chuck was back in Indianapolis behind the derelict car, sighting up the woman he shot in the crosshairs of his scope. Once again he watched her mouth the words. This time as he watched her in his mind’s eye, he heard the words spoken on his own lips. “You’re the one.” For the first time in his life, Chuck knew the man staring back at him from the mirror.

  “I’m serious, boss!”

  “I know you are,” Chuck said, as he stared at the moonlit gravel around his feet. He filled his lungs and turned Andy back toward the old farmhouse. “But let’s get back to what needs to be done. The most important thing is to keep everyone quiet. If Jason has any scouts posted around us, let’s hope they’re asleep, and do our best not to wake them. Get the vehicles loaded back up and then you guys are going to head out. Cindy has the map.”

  “This is going to be real hard on her. She may refuse to go.”

  “She’ll go. She knows it’s the right thing to do. I’ll wake her up and ease her into it. But if later on she tries to get you guys to turn around—”

  “Don’t worry boss. I won’t let that happen.”

  Chapter 46

  Chuck stood with his hunting rifle slung over his right shoulder and his pistol wedged into the front pocket of his pants as he watched the taillights of Andy’s Toyota fade into the night. The situation felt peculiar. But the feeling wasn’t fear. It was the strange sensation of standing on unfamiliar ground without the added weight of his missing backpack. Not having it left him feeling awkward and unbalanced. He knew it was in good hands. He had given it to Andy when he said goodbye. As the last visible sign of the four-car convoy disappeared into the dark, Chuck turned and started the trek back to Jamestown.

  A mile into it a rustling sound stopped Chuck dead in his tracks. He spun around and scanned the road behind him. The old asphalt reflected a soft glow from the stars and moon, but the ditch and trees that ran along the west side formed a solid curtain of darkness. Anyone could have been hiding in those trees.

  He thought of Jason’s sentries as he slung the rifle off his shoulder and dropped down to his stomach and elbows in the ditch. He chambered a round as he peered back at the shadows along the moonlit road. The scope was useless in the dark, in fact downright dangerous when you didn’t know where your target was coming from. Instead he sighted along the barrel and looked for movement. Years of hunting had prepared him for this.

  His palms were dry as he ran his finger along the steel curve of the trigger. But that didn’t mean that his heart wasn’t pounding. Preparation couldn’t eliminate instinct. It could only help him control it. He started to force a hard swallow and that’s when the hand grabbed his shoulder. Chuck flipped over onto his back but a foot pinned his rifle down against the ditch before he could swing it around. He tried to snatch the pistol out of his pocket, but the shadow standing over him grabbed his hand and whispered, “It’s me boss!”

  Chuck let go of the rifle, grabbed the shirt of the man hunched o
ver him and yanked him down to where he could make out his face. “Damn it, Andy!” he hissed through a grimace. “You just about gave me a heart attack.” He let go of Andy’s shirt and scrambled to where they were both squatting in the cover of the trees and weeds. “What are you doing here?”

  “Cindy made me—”

  “She’s not around here is she?”

  “No. She’s with the others a few miles on past the farmhouse. She had me stop and then she jumped out and refused to get back in unless I agreed to bring you these,” Andy said, as he pulled Chuck’s backpack off his shoulder.

  “I don’t need that.”

  “It’s not your stuff,” Andy fired back, as he pulled out something about a foot long and handed it to Chuck. “She said that you had to have something and this is what we came up with.”

  Chuck had a good idea of what it was from the weight alone. When he stuck it out into the moonlight, it still brought a smile to his face. It was three sticks of dynamite taped around a road flare. “How’s it work?”

  “Just like a match―scratch the tip of the flare across asphalt or rough cement and then get the hell out of Dodge. The way I have it figured, you’ve got about three or four seconds before that sucker explodes.”

  “Any more?”

  “There’s two more,” Andy whispered, as he shook the backpack to give a sense of the weight inside. “That was all the road flares we had.”

  “Three’s great!” Chuck said, as he took the backpack, arranged the three bombs, and then slung the canvas bag over his shoulder. “They’ll definitely help. That is, as long as I don’t let anyone else sneak up on me.”

  Andy let out a long, raspy, “Ahh…” to discount any validity in Chuck’s statement. With a grin he quickly added, “You just taught me too well.”

  Chuck feigned a smile at the thought. “What about Cindy, is she doing okay?”